Crouching Tauren, Hidden Goblin
by MurasakiZetsubou
Summary: Hey, you! Yeah, you! Ya wanna read my story? 'Course ya do. It's an action-packed tale filled to the brim with explosions, heads and random acts of kindness. Oh yeah, and a tauren. Witness mutual confusion blossom into heart-wrenching friendship! The rating's for the explosions and the violence that comes with it. Read and review, please!
1. Induction Samophlange

'Venrat!'

He was surrounded by guards and matted with blood. His swings were sluggish, his spells gasped requests to the elements. He'd proven an excellent distraction- even though the plan had gone pear-shaped- and he'd continue to be one just long enough for me to slip through the window.

My fingers knotted in the blood-clotted braid of the freshly decapitated head. It would've been nothin' for me to peg it and collect the reward on his behalf. So why was I hesitating?

As if to answer my question, he looked up at me- blowin' my chances of a clean escape- big brown eyes shinin' like Ma's homemade chocolate. The guards were workin' overtime, some of 'em about turnin' and comin' for me. My window of opportunity was closing fast.

Holy feckin' smokes.

* * *

Bet that caught your attention, eh? That right there is what literary geniuses call an 'explosive beginning'. Bam, there goes yer heart. _Bam._

Why start there, you ask? Always grab your audience by the balls, whether you're selling a book or exploding coffee mugs. Patent pending, so don't even think about it, pal.

Anyway, I should introduce myself. Copperut, Venrat Copperut. Former business-savvy sassy cat turned rogue. I was so up-and-comin' I was basically _there. _

But that's another story.

The one you want to hear right now- and trust me, ya do- is the one involvin' that brown-eyed lovely and the head. I'm writing it myself because books were written to remember Great Things and this was my Great Thing.

Rogues have no heart, remember that.

Ever been cheated by a goblin? I certainly have. Still have his name scratched on my Ma's dagger, ready to slit his shrivelled heart and-

Sorry.

This particular story starts in a new, circular room that smells of wood and smoke. I've been doing too much of what's called digressin' so let's get back to the plot.

* * *

_Hello and welcome to CTHG! This is my first time writing in a first-person view, so I apologise if it seems a little rough._


	2. Flying Tiger Goggles

He threw the scrolls at the table: no one was there to flinch, however, as everyone including the guards had been sent out.

'I was told that you were good.'

'The fact that people know of me kinda suggests I'm not too good.' His glare, though impressive, didn't scare me. This steroid-pumped lump of orc was just a placeholder. I coughed, suppressin' the urge to roll my eyes. Someone obviously grew out of their sense of humour. 'I'm a rogue, Hellscream, not a babysitter.'

'That's Warchief to you, _goblin.' _He made the word sound like something your Ma would repeat incredulously over the kitchen table. _Goblin? _Sweetheart, is that even legal? 'It's your choice.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'Respectfully, Mister Warchief sir, I decline your request.' The deal was fishier than Old Umbehto and Hellscream's grin just made it stink all the more.

'Then I'm placing you under arrest, goblin. Trade Prince Gallywix wants you.'

I felt the blood drain from my face.

'Ah, well, if that's the case, I'll give it some thought.'

The Warchief slammed his meaty fist onto the table too. 'Enough of your games, goblin. You're wanted by Gallywix for theft, extortion, defamation-' Garrosh flipped through several sheafs of paper and gave up. 'I'm not having dirty, sneaking thieves walking around _my _city, understand?'

'Of course, Mister Warchief sir!' That fist was bigger than my head. Better to walk outta this alive. 'As I understand it, all charges against me will be dropped if I do this _one little favour _for my two most favourite leaders?'

That grin again: I'd tangled with sharks with grins just like that. Garrosh Hellscream was expecting dinner. 'Of course, Sub-Engineer Copperut. Clean as a sheet, free as a bird. '

'And the tauren is what, just a little somethin' to spice things up?'

'You're to work with him until the mission is accomplished. No partnership, no deal.' The grin was gone and his eyes were like flint. I was dismissed.

* * *

So, how about it? An ultimatum from Garrosh Hellscream himself. Ma and Da woulda been proud. 'Course I was gonna do it. I'd spent the last five months runnin' from Gallywix. No more. Maybe when he leans forward to hand me that big burstin' bag of moolah I'll slip my knife in nice and easy. Heck, there was probably another bag for the goblin with the balls to do it.

But there was still that issue of that tauren. It wasn't hard to figure it out: he'd gotten into Garrosh's bad books and he was being sent to do some cleanup. Earn some points. A tauren sent to do a hit job? I'd bet my entire collection of _Blitz Chick _that Hellscream wouldn't shed any tears if the tauren got popped off.

Maybe I could take his half of the bounty.

These were the thoughts flashin' through my head as I made my way through Orgrimmar. I nodded to Inkeeper Nufa and looked around real slow. Time to find my tauren.

* * *

'So what is it you do for a living, Miss Copperut?'

I was physically quashing the urge to brain myself against the post. The tauren was looking at me inquisitively over his mug, genuinely interested. Mouretsu Hardhoof, late thirties, middling soldier, served in Northrend. A shaman too, just to top it all off. He didn't look like he could kill a fly, let alone off an orc businessman swindling Gallywix.

'I'm an explosives expert. And please,' I put on my best at-ease smile. It hurt. 'Call me Venrat.'

'I thought all goblins were explosives experts...'

'Aha!' I jabbed my finger at his face, making him go cross-eyed. 'Common mistake. Yeah, it's true that every goblin and his mother is an _honorary _explosives expert, but I blow stuff up on _purpose.' _ He just nodded politely, turnin' back to his salad. My stomach grumbled in protest: I hadn't not ordered anything. These lips hadn't touched food in two days, and I would've _murdered _for some leafy greens. 'Er, why'd you get picked for this hit anyway?' I asked, voice low. I really wished he wouldn't lean in like that. He was just begging to be arrested. 'You don't seem like the kind of law-abiding citizen to do... stuff like this.'

Mouretsu smiled and forked another lettuce leaf. I forced my eyes to focus on the glass of water in my hand. 'No, I guess not. I've been causing some trouble in Thunder Bluff, you see, and the Warchief wants to teach me a lesson.'

Five points to the cute goblin with the bob sitting in the far left corner. But Garrosh wasn't as kind as this guy was making him out to be. What's the point of a lesson if you didn't live long enough to put your learning into action? Exactly.

'We'll give it a week to do some recon, and then it'll be a piece of cake-'

'Wait.' Mouretsu's eyes had gone wide. 'Aren't we supposed to check whether he's actually guilty of all the things Gallywix is accusing him of?'

Surely it wasn't too late to off myself with the fork. Or I could just run, I didn't have to do this. Exercise was good for you.

'I understand you're new at this, Mouretsu. But in this line of business, we... ah... don't ask questions. We just do what we're told to do. Capisce?'

'But, what if he's innocent?' His voice rose above the general hubbub and I suddenly felt that it would just be easier to submit.

'Alright, if that's how you want to play, babe, we'll play.' I pinched the bridge of my nose. 'We'll check out his warehouse in Booty Bay, okay? But tomorrow. I've got a headache comin' on.'

'Are you alright?' he asked as I stood and walked away. He still had to look down from his stool.

'Just peachy.'

* * *

I bet you can tell how this is gonna end. You can practically smell the tension blowin' off of us two, right?


End file.
